


omniscient

by charliegreyson



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Original work - Freeform, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 11:05:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19004491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliegreyson/pseuds/charliegreyson
Summary: so like...this is my first post and it's deeply personal and i've been sitting on it for yearsi don't really want to give a summary or description of what it means because i want people to have their own interpretation of it and go in with kind of a clean slate and be unbiasedso...tell me what you think? i would love to see what people take from thisanyways, thank you to anyone who takes the time to read this, i truly appreciate it





	omniscient

It was spring. The sun was hidden behind the clouds like a peeking child in a game of hide and seek. Always keeping a watchful and omniscient eye. The little girl lay in the grass, staring up at the sky in awe as if the sun had just told her every secret it had ever witnessed. She has a faint memory, a vague impression, of a time in her still short life when the sun had gone away for what had seemed like weeks. She did not know why it had happened, just that her mother had said it had “went away with the moon on vacation to visit the stars”, ever the romantic.

The small girl had always had an insatiable thirst for knowledge and all things astronomical. As she grew it only seemed to grow, becoming more imperative that she learn all there was to know, that she learn anything that could explain why the sun and moon had left the sky. When she wasn’t reading in a hidden alcove, stacks of books to keep her company, she could be found outside stretched out in the yard reading the stories in the clouds, soft grass brushing at her fingertips. 

At the age of thirteen the sun and the moon disappear again. Everything remains the same, save for the now darkened sky, dimly lit up only by the stars light years away. 

Her mother worries. She has not left her room since the world became dark. She has studied the sun and the moon since she first learned to read, and yet nothing and no one could tell her how they disappeared or why.

It’s fall. The leaves are red and brown and orange and stick to the water on the ground left by the previous night’s showers. Even though it’s mid-november the weather feels hot and suffocating, making her skin itch. 

She is nineteen. She is tired. The sun and moon are still gone, but she met someone that brings enough light into her life to make up for it. She’s hoping she’ll be able to wake up soon, now that there is something to wake up for.

Life is slow. Everything is trickling by at a snail’s pace. But that is ok, because that means that every moment with her last just that much longer, feeling like a lifetime in just one moment. She is sweet and lovely. Soft and comforting. Emery. 

When she tells Emery about the sun and moon she carries a small tear in the corner of her eye, as if talking about a long lost friend. Emery feels her pain, yet meets it with a warm understanding and gentle eyes. My Dear, she says, the sun and the moon left because they are in love. They wanted as much time together as the could possibly get. You see, when they are in the sky, they can never see each other but in the most fleeting of moments at dusk and dawn. They are in love and just wanted to be together.

She thinks she finally understands why the sun and moon left. She is not longer sad, no longer cold, and she thinks that perhaps she just needed help finding her own light. 

The sun and moon are back, taking their home again in the sky, mixing in with the clouds. Emery is gone now, but that’s okay. She was hurt for a while, of course. You don’t come out of that type of love unscathed, but it is for the best. She found her own light now. She holds herself up, stronger than she had ever been. She is smiling on her own, leaving her room and going outside, pushed by her own volition. She throws herself back into her books that had once given her so much solace and feels pieces of herself coming back together. 

As she's once again laying in the grass, looking up through the clouds and at the sun, reading the stories painted there and whispered lazily in the wind, she is tired again but in the best way. She is soft and content, like she can finally rest after so many years struggling to stay awake.

She is not completely whole or healed, but she is alive and has the means to get there.

**Author's Note:**

> so like...this is my first post and it's deeply personal and i've been sitting on it for years 
> 
> i don't really want to give a summary or description of what it means because i want people to have their own interpretation of it and go in with kind of a clean slate and be unbiased
> 
> so...tell me what you think? i would love to see what people take from this
> 
> anyways, thank you to anyone who takes the time to read this, i truly appreciate it


End file.
